


the kindness of monsters

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Series: again we wander, we love, we separate again [7]
Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Smallville
Genre: Don't Examine This Too Closely, I'm Sorry, Introspection, Lex Luthor Captures Clark Kent, Lex is not okay, M/M, POV Second Person, Past Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, minor mentions of child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 05:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11396637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: Memories devour. Your resolve wavers. You hate him, he's despicable -- your hand ghosts over his hair, the sharp angle of his chin. This used to make him smile, he used to care.But he lied, he lied, he lied.He's just like everyone else. Yes, the Earth must be cleansed and only when your foot is on his grave will you feel peace.





	the kindness of monsters

**Author's Note:**

> (a mashup of Michael's and Jesse's Lex combined with Clark/Lex's Smallville past)

 

> _If man won't kill God, the Devil will do it._
> 
> **Lex Luthor**
> 
> Batman vs Superman
> 
>  

 

His cape billows against the wind as if to mock and belittle. Crimson and a lucrative  _S_ serve as a hateful reminder that Superman himself views you as a miscreant, a danger to society. All just as well, you've earned the title. Bled and killed for it. You're a Luthor and Luthor's excel at every aspect of their lives.

To be vulnerable is to be unworthy of such lineage. 

His boots crunch under rooftop concrete and you're _weak_. You're trembling clammy hands with a bandage on the palm, six years old in your father's office as he orders a nurse to tend to blood caked skin that  _he_ caused. You're eleven and Lionel is hugging you at a news junket, smile for the picture, son.

_Smile._

You tell Superman, voice cracking and rampantly pacing, that there was no god to save you from daddy's fists. You wanted to be  _good_ but boys cannot fight giants and Lionel Luthor took away the good in you. He severed the last inkling of rational that innocently believed love without strings was possible.  

Where was Superman then? Or his people? God's cannot be inherently good if they pick and choose who they protect. The inhabitants of Krypton heard your cries, witnessed your struggles and remained neutral. 

_Who was your salvation?_

_No one._

The past and present merge. You're disposable to Superman as is the Earth itself. He's pretending and everyone buys the white knight savior act, but you were brought up to question everything. You know that light only exists to detract away from darkness. Every hero needs his villain. You are neither and both. He is the enemy. You'll prove it, they'll see. 

 

 

Superman's head is bowed in submission, not a hair out of place. He is a God among men but he wasn't always. No, you knew him before the world demanded blood and justice. Before the Luthor in you saw him as a worthy adversary.

He was the only one to see you as a human being rather than a product to be tweaked. You know the taste of his kiss, how messy his hair was in the morning. You know the strength of Clark Kent's hugs and his mother's birthday. You know that her favorite flowers are tulips and his father never approved of you. 

**_You knew him._ **

~~Superman and Clark Kent are one in the same.~~

No, they're not.

Clark  _loved_ Lex. He cared, he never put merit in Jonathan's warnings.

**_He_ _left you behind._  **

Superman is crude. Clark is hateful. He is _nothing_.

Martha Kent and everyone Clark Kent loves will pay for his sins. The mother of a flying demon must be a witch. Martha will perish by fire. Clark loves  _them._ Lois Lane, Martha Kent, the world he protects. Not you, he gave up on you. 

 

 

Memories devour. Your resolve wavers. You hate him, he's despicable -- your hand ghosts over his hair, the sharp angle of his chin. This used to make him smile, he used to care. But he lied, he lied, he _lied_. He's just like everyone else. Yes, the Earth must be cleansed and only when your foot is on his grave will you feel peace. 

Your destiny is to destroy the traitor, the tyrant. His demise will be your legacy. Lex Luthor, a mortal who took down a god. God's cannot be benevolent and merciful if they turn their backs on the very people they pretend to protect. You will end him without even getting your hands dirty. 

Splendid! Beautiful!

 

 

He raises his head as you retract your hand.

 

 

Aw poor Superman. He thinks he's earned the right to play the wounded soldier act. His eyes are brimming with rage, unlike the man you'd admired for years. _Loved._ This rigid shell of a man --  this you can work with. It'll be a delight to witness Gotham's finest go head to head with Krypton's golden boy. 

 

 

Amazing! Wonderful! It'll be the Christmas morning you never had! 

 

 

  **+**

 

You leave him with cryptic threats and board the helicopter.  Superman's days are numbered but you will not be the man to kill him. You're too involved. 

_Weak_

_Weak_

_**WEAK** _

Lionel's vindictive voice taunts: What sort of man hides behind a millionare vigilante and pegs two powerful men against one another? Lex Luthor is a  _coward_. 

_"You disgust me, Alexander. Your mother would be ashamed to know she raised a son who can't even handle his own without falling apart. You disgust me..."_

Angels and devils. Demons and gods. Evil does not rise, it descends from the sky above. Superman, Clark, Superman - **Superman must die**. 

_~~But he's our friend...~~ _

**No.**

Sworn enemy. 

Life and death, the Trojan horse in the form of justice and chiroptera. The soldiers of Troy welcomed the horse into their midst. Gotham's own -- Bruce Wayne will turn on Clark Kent. Superman will fall like the angel he never was. The end is nigh. 

Bishop to bishop - 

_"Do you think we'll end up like them, Lex?"_

_"No, Clark. Our friendship will be the stuff of legends."_

The chessboard was stacked against the doe eyed idiot who allowed himself to be put in a position to be saved, who practically begged for it. How vile, how repulsive. You wanted redemption but secrets got in the way or perhaps destiny wrote you in as the villain of this story from the beginning. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. 

The roar of helicopter blades drown out the scream that tears it's way out of your throat.

It's almost primal, raw enough that breathing feels like bleeding. The pilot flinches and pretends not to notice. You hate him. You hate the whole goddamn world. You growl and sob -- deep guttural cries until your eyes are gritty and throat exhausted. 

 

 

**+**

 

The helicopter lands and you disembark -- sunglasses on, crumpled tissue in hand, suit jacket impeccable.

Luthor's do not cry. 

 

  **+**

 

 

 


End file.
